OUT OF CHARACTER!
by Passion4Spike
Summary: SPUFFY. Season 6. Tabula Rasa rewrite. One shot. Parody. Fluff. Tara told Willow it wasn't working out, that they both needed some space. She'd accused Willow of using too much magic, but it wasn't like that! Willow loved Tara just the way she was, but maybe if she could just change a couple of teeny-weeny things, Tara could see things Willow's way, then everything would be fine.


**OUT OF CHARACTER!**

 **By: Holi117 and Passion4Spike**

* * *

 **Story Summary:**

SPUFFY. Season 6. Tabula Rasa rewrite. One shot. Parody. Fluff.

Tara told Willow it wasn't working out, that they both needed some space. She'd accused Willow of using too much magic, but it wasn't like that! Willow only used magic to help people. Tara just needed to see things differently, then she'd understand. Willow loved Tara just the way she was, but maybe if she could just change a couple of teeny-weeny things, Tara could see things Willow's way, then everything would be fine. Willow and spells… What could go wrong?

* * *

 **Warnings and Disclaimers:**

 **Fandom:** Spuffy / BtVS

 **Rated:** PG-13 for language

 **Disclaimer** : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. I am not making any money from this! No commercial and/or trade purpose is intended to infringe the copyrights registered by official parties. Joss owns all, we're just playing in his sandbox.

Direct quotes from 'Tabula Rasa' written by Rebecca Kirshner.

* * *

Anya busied herself behind the counter, working meticulously through the new order she would be placing, calculating price adjustments and profit margins as she went before everyone arrived and ruined her concentration. Once again, Giles had called another Scooby meeting at the Magic Box. How was she supposed to get things done and earn money if they all kept showing up with problems, and scaring her valuable customers away?! Maybe she needed to start charging the Scoobies rent. As if they'd pay. She sighed, making another note against her spreadsheet.

Maybe it was another Hell God or singing demon? She supposed that would warrant a meeting. Honestly, just a plain ole nest of deadly vampires or brain-eating zombies would be a welcome relief. Those usually got sorted out pretty quickly, and Anya never had to do much at all in those situations. She peeped over the register frowning slightly as Buffy sat half-way up the ladder leading to the restricted section, her arms folded across her chest, eyes downcast. Giles was sitting quietly at the research table, flipping absently through a book. Everything was very uncomfortable, and it was throwing Anya off her math, which wasn't easy to do.

The bell above the shop door tinkled, and all three pairs of eyes swivelled in its direction. Dawn and Tara entered first, giggling to each other as they finished their conversation, closely followed by a smiling Willow and Xander. The four Scoobies looked completely at ease, a sharp contrast to the scene they had interrupted. Automatically, they all began taking their usual places around the back end of the shop, nodding and murmuring greetings to those who had been waiting.

Giles stood up from the research table, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. He supposed he'd better start and get this over with before the excitable group jumped in with some inane topic, or began asking too many questions. He spared a look to Buffy, who was still pointedly ignoring him, before taking in the group as a whole once more.

"I-I'm glad you're all here, um… I have something to tell you all. Um… I know it feels like we've been through this before –" he started seriously.

"Why don't you just jump to the chase?" Buffy cut him off tersely, coming down from where she'd been sitting, eyes blazing with bitter anger. "Tell them that you're –"

Buffy was, in turn, interrupted by the bell chiming madly as Spike burst into the store in a cloud of smoke. Everyone turned confused eyes on the vampire, who was wearing an ancient, brown tweed suit, bow-tie and fur-lined hunting hat.

"Spike?" Giles questioned, completely startled by the vampire's appearance – both at the shop, and his attire.

"Holy moly," Anya observed flatly, exhaling.

"You need to give me asylum!" Spike announced as he slammed the door closed with another clatter of bells.

"I'll say," Xander snarked, looking the vampire up and down.

"No need to get cute," Spike grumbled, directing a side-eyed glare at the whelp as he pulled off the hat and moved towards the others. "It's a disguise. Happens there's a bloke I'd rather not see jus' now." He hoisted himself up to sit on the glass counter beside the register, turning to address Buffy. "You met him, I believe. Toothy bloke with the baby-seal breath? Nasty fellow, him. And ugly, too. He's got a mouthful o' choppers just waitin' to be yanked out and worn as necklaces."

Buffy rolled her eyes, remembering saving Spike from said 'toothy-bloke' the previous evening. If she would just stop saving his life, it would simple things up _so_ much.

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes, well, now that we've recovered from Spike's… uh, sartorial humour, I'll jump," he glanced at Buffy, "to the chase."

Buffy averted her gaze, sucking in her cheeks and biting her tongue, as everyone else turned their attention back to Giles.

"I'm headed back to England and I plan to stay… indefinitely."

"Now?!" Xander squeaked. "Not now, I mean, not after… everything?"

"Yes, now," Giles confirmed soberly.

"For real this time?" Anya asked hopefully. "Cos, honest to Pete, a young shopkeeper's heart can only take so much… I mean, not that I want you to go –"

"I can't do this," Buffy declared, striding past Giles toward the door. "I just, I don't think…" she continued, her voice breaking with despair.

"Buffy, listen," Willow called, making Buffy stop and turn back. "I know this must be awful for you, and I'm… I'm so sorry for…"

" _Sorry_ ," Buffy repeated sarcastically, swallowing the miserable, sour laugh wanting to sneak out. "Everybody's sorry. I know that you guys are just trying to help… but it's just, it's too much. And, and I, I can't take it anymore," she revealed, flustered, tears welling in her eyes. "If you guys… if you guys understood how it felt – how it feels," she croaked, her throat clenching with too many painful emotions to bear. "It's like I'm dying, it's –"

Buffy went still, her words cut off as she slumped to the floor. Before anyone could sling a worried word in her direction, they, too, fell silent and slipped into unconsciousness.

 **** X-X-X-X-X ****

When Buffy woke, the shop was dark, the sun down. "Huh?" she muttered, standing up and finding the light switch. "Is everyone alright?" she asked as the others began to slowly rouse with yawns and stretches.

"I… I think so?" Dawn answered groggily as she sat up on the floor.

Spike, who'd passed out still on the counter, rolled over and fell to the floor with a surprised yelp, landing with a _thud_ , and a grunt to the tiled floor below.

"Spike!" Xander cried, jumping up and dashing around the counter. "You alright, man? Here, lemme help you up." He held out his palm in offering.

Spike took it, heaving back himself up to his feet. "Ta." He flicked his gaze down as he felt Xander's thumb brush over his skin. "Errr…" He quickly pulled his hand away, and brushed the dust off his tweed as Xander nervously cleared his throat.

"Well, that's totally out of character," Anya remarked, her brows furrowed.

"What're you talking about?" Xander snorted.

"We're best mates… practically brothers," Spike agreed, slapping Xander on the shoulder good-naturedly as his eyes danced between Xander and Anya. Had she lost the plot? Maybe hit her head during the 'blackout'?

"Well, I wouldn't say ' _brothers'_ exactly," Xander corrected, raking an admiring gaze down Spike's tweed-covered, slim-yet-compact, muscular body. God, it felt good to have his cool hand resting against his shoulder like that…

"What the hell?" Buffy blurted, her voice airing on the side of horror. "Something has to be affecting them. Whatever it was that knocked us out, it's done something to them. It's not normal!"

"Maybe we should try some kind of spell to figure it out," Tara suggested, tucking her dark-blonde hair behind her ears, and peering confidently around the room. "I'm sure I could find something, and Willow could help, right, sweetie?"

"No, I don't think magic is the answer," Willow piped up. "It could just make things a whole lot worse. Giles, research?"

"Absolutely not! Research will be an utterly useless waste of time! Buffy – patrol seems in order."

"Screw that, it's clearly time to hit the books!" Buffy shot back. "I'm thinking something big, dusty, and possibly in French – maybe Latin … NO! Ancient Sumerian!"

"Out of character!" Xander and Spike both fired in unison, eyes comically wide, pointing at the others. "Jinx!" they chorused as one, turning to face each other with wide grins as they punched the other in the arm.

"Oww!" Spike complained, rubbing his bicep. "Don't have t' be so soddin' rough about it."

"Sorry, buddy," Xander apologised. "I guess I just don't know my own strength. You're always so strong… Should I kiss it and make it all better?"

Spike grimaced and took a step back. "In your dreams, pervert."

"This is going to take all night, isn't it?" Anya huffed, going over to the register and popping the tray. "Maybe Dawn should go and pick up some coffee and donuts or something."

"Me? I'm not the food-runner –" Dawn started, as Anya came back around the counter, thrusting notes in her face.

"Here, take my money. Will a hundred cover it?"

"Oh, my Goddess, Anya's infected, too!" Tara exclaimed as the others gasped in collective shock. Willow clasped onto her lover's arm, recoiling.

"This is freaking me the fuck out," Giles declared.

" _WHAT_ did you just say?!" Buffy blurted incredulously, spinning to face her Watcher, wide-eyed.

"Well, it is!" he defended.

Dawn warily accepted the cash from Anya and took a cautious step towards the older man. "Giles, where are your glasses?"

"On the table… why?"

"Shouldn't you be all, like, cleaning them to within an inch of their lives while you figure this out?" Dawn wondered.

"Why in God's name would I be doing that?" Giles retorted.

"OUT OF CHARACTER!" Buffy announced, pointing an accusing finger in his direction as she felt the beginnings of panic starting to flutter through her veins.

Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister. "Okay, everyone just needs to stay calm and not panic."

"What're you talking about?! This is clearly the time to panic!" Buffy asserted. "Giles is swearing and not cleaning his glasses, an-and Willow doesn't want to do a spell, and Xander's –" She swallowed the bile rising in her throat as she watched him covertly checking out Spike's ass. She quickly turned away. "And Dawnie, you're… Hey, wait! Why are you so normal?"

"Ooh! It's a plot thingy!" Willow suddenly pronounced excitedly. "Bunny! Plot bunny!"

Everyone turned wary eyes on Anya. "What?" She stared back at them, confused. "Willow's right. Dawn was brought in to add more teen angst and shrill shrieks of indignation which were clearly lacking before."

"I am sooo _NOT_ a plot bunny," Dawn huffed.

"Oh my God, you _ARE_ a plot bunny! And you're also infected. You're not being shrill or angst-y at all!" Anya confirmed gleefully, certain she'd cracked the case.

"Whereas you, on the other hand…" Buffy pointed out, arching a brow at Anya.

"You're one to talk, panic-girl!" Anya shot back, her delight short-lived.

"Guys, I'm not infected. Look, if we just sit down, and rationalise this, I'm sure we can work it out. We don't have to get all emotional," Dawn entreated calmly, sitting herself down at the table. Jeez, was she the only adult here? How did anything ever get done?

"Exactly! Let's just take a moment to focus inward and find our Zen, okay?" Xander suggested. "Spike? Any thoughts on what's affecting them?" he asked, waving a hand at the others.

" _Them_?!" Buffy, Willow and Tara balked in unison, as Anya gasped, "Holy shit! Again, out of character!"

"I'm so _not_ out of character! Would ya stop saying that?!" Xander defended with exasperation. "We all know Spike's been around a while, maybe he has an idea about what's going on here! We need to tap into the vast knowledge of his expertise and brilliant mind. Then, whatever plan he comes up with, we can follow it with the utmost confidence in success."

"Why are you talking like that?" Tara asked, tilting her head.

"Like what?"

"All… proper…"

"Yeah, Tara's right. It's totally wig-worthy," Buffy agreed.

"Very off-putting," Anya added.

"Hey, Tara's not stuttering either. I don't see what speech patterns have to do with anythi –"

"Why would I stutter? We're all friends here, and I have value. I wouldn't be a Scooby if I didn't," Tara replied with a shrug of her shoulder. "Besides, I'm sure I could fix all this in a heartbeat. If Willow wasn't so uptight about using magic, I'd have done it already."

Willow shook her head, as if she could clear the freak-factor from her brain, and angled toward Xander, finally letting go of Tara's arm. "Okay, first of all, vocabulary and whatever aside – since when do you care what Spike thinks? Or knows? Or… or anything?!" Willow started. "And second – Spike's plans always suck! That's totally out of –"

"Clearly, Xander's right – as usual," Giles interjected. "Out of everyone here, Spike should totally take point in this. If anyone can suss out what's happened to the lot of you, it's him."

"OUT OF CHARACTER!" the women yelled as one.

"Stop saying 'out of character!' And stop talking about 'plot' like we're in some kind of horrible non-reality TV show!" Xander demanded.

"Yeah, or a really rubbish fanfic of a TV show," Spike agreed with a mock-shiver.

"This is like the musical all over again… only, less with the music video montage and more with the stage production," Buffy cringed.

"With wardrobe from a thankfully lost Sherlock Holmes crossover," Giles added, looking pointedly at Spike.

"Maybe we should just be thankful that it's not a Dawson's Creek crossover. Sooo not ready for _that_ love-square," Dawn groaned.

"Well, you're one to talk, Grandpa!" Spike barked, ignoring Dawn completely.

" _Grandpa?!_ You're at least eighty years older than me, you cheeky git! _"_ Giles harrumphed back in disgust, regarding his own clothes, then Spike's again. "And just look at the state of yourself! I mean, really. What you're wearing is not only fuckin' ridiculous, it's revolting!"

"GILES!" Buffy gasped as Xander took a protective step forward in front of Spike, barking, "Hey!"

"Know what? I'm done tryin' t' meet your high standards in tweed-based attire – or anythin' else for that matter. Fuck the lot of you!" Spike growled, shoving past Xander and heading for the door. "Nothing holdin' me to this piece o' shit town. Dunno why I stayed so soddin' long. I'm outta here!"

"Spike! Wait! You can't go!" Xander cried, hurrying after him.

"No! Xander! Why are you, of all people, stopping him? This is all wrong!" Dawn exclaimed. "Who wrote this shit?"

"She has a point, Xander," Anya agreed flatly. "Even if she's doing it with a particularly un-shrill vocal range."

Dawn shot her a scathing look.

"But… But, he can't leave!" Xander bleated desperately, grabbing hold of Spike's sleeve to halt him in his tracks. He begrudgingly let go as Spike hefted out a heavy sigh and paused in his strides, turning back to face the group with a scowl.

"Why not?" Tara pondered dubiously.

"Because! It's the plot!" Xander explained, spinning around to them. "This is what needs to happen to get to the end game!"

"I thought you didn't believe in this whole, plot bunny thingy?" Buffy threw back. "See! This is insane. Where are the books?! There should be books and we should be combing them!"

"Find another way to get it done!" Willow ordered. "This is _not_ you, Xander!"

"There _IS_ NO OTHER WAY!" Xander screamed.

"BUT IT'S OUT OF CHARACTER!" several voices shrieked back at once.

"BUT IT'S THE PLOT!" Xander shrieked back, practically ready to start pulling his hair out.

"Wait! Wasn't Spike running from someone? Shouldn't they, y'know, show up and break Giles' stuff? Chase us around a little bit?" Anya asked, looking at the door.

"No one cares about that," Xander dismissed. "Look, our Searching-For-Redemption-And-Love-Vampire with extremely great hair can't leave, because scenes are just better with Spike in them! Everyone knows that!" Xander explained. "He's all sexy and British –"

"Excuse me! I'm bloody well sexy and British, too, y'know?" Giles cut in, fighting to be heard over Xander's determined rant.

"– and he's got the bad-boy thing going, and the hard body and the cheek bones… Not to mention the blue eyes and the swagger and…"

"OUT. OF. CHARACTER!"

"A-and… I… I love him!" Xander announced, closing the distance between himself and Spike, and planting a hard, deep kiss on the vampire's soft, full lips, his hands cupping Spike's face fiercely.

"You aren't even gay!" Anya pointed out angrily as Spike squirmed out of Xander's grasp, struggling to detach himself from the desperate display.

"Sorry, mate," Spike said, as Xander gazed at him with longing-tinged-sorrow at the rejection. "Had my fill o' strapping brunettes with Angelus… literally – in every orifice."

"Ewwww!" Anya groaned. "Seriously?! TMI!"

Giles scoffed. "Speakin' of 'out of character'…"

"Anyway, got m' heart set on someone else," Spike continued, sniffing and squaring his shoulders.

Buffy preened, turning on her seductive Slayer-charm, and stepping forward, her panic forgotten instantly. "And, who might that be?" she cooed in a sultry voice.

Spike's eyes roamed over her, practically undressing her with his heated gaze, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, head tilted, taking her in. "Red," he said, shifting his smouldering leer to the witch.

Willow squeaked, "Really?!"

"Ever since I saw you in that fluffy pink number, I've wanted you."

"B-but… Spike!" Buffy stammered. "What about me? You said you loved _me_! That you'd do anything for me! I thought… you can't! I… I love you!"

"Sorry, Goldilocks. A bloke can't wait around forever for you t' make up your soddin' mind, can he? Even if he is immortal," Spike shrugged, stepping around the Slayer towards Willow, reaching out a palm towards her.

As if in trance, Willow rose from her seat and took his hand, moving towards him with a goofy grin. "I… I never would've guessed! You played it so close to your chest. It's always so hard to know what you're thinking or feeling, you mask it so well…"

"Hey, buster!" Tara snarled, stepping between the pair and dragging Willow behind her. "Hands off! She's mine!"

"Guys… it's okay, you don't have to fight. There's enough Willow to go around," the red witch assured them. "Lots of… _orifices_ ," she smirked, winking in Spike's direction over Tara's stiffened shoulders.

"That's my girl…" Spike grinned, curling his tongue up behind his teeth.

"ARGH! What is with you people and the over-sharing!?" Anya cried, covering her ears.

"NO SHARING, over or otherwise!" Buffy screamed, yanking Spike back by one arm and spinning him around to face her.

"Oi! Was havin' a bloody moment there, Slayer!"

"I _have_ made up my mind! I love you, you dope!" she informed him. "And you're mine!"

She wrapped one hand behind his neck and pulled him close, capturing his lips in a hungry, tonsil-tickling kiss. She arched her body into his, supple curves pressing against hard lines of rippling muscle. Spike could feel the heat of her through the thick tweed, burning with desire. Though his heart was set on the spicy red witch, he couldn't deny his body's reaction to this little sex kitten. He was male, after all! His trousers were suddenly becoming too tight, too constricting as his thick –

"Yeah, blah, blah, blah… we get it," Dawn sighed, rolling her eyes.

"You've all, clearly, gone bat-shit crazy," Giles announced, brow furrowing. "Whatever that means. I'll ask Spike later, after he's finished sha–"

"This is so wrong," Dawn said, shaking her head in dismay. "We need to fix this. Willow, did you cast a spell?"

Willow licked her lips, staring at the two blondes making out in the middle of the shop floor, the way their grinding bodies pressed and gyrated against each other... Oh, she could _so_ be the filling in _that_ sandwich, if only Tara would release her arm and –

"Hello? Earth to Willow." A set of fingers snapped impatiently in front of her face. Willow blinked, abruptly finding herself face-to-face with Dawn.

"I, uh… what?"

"I said, did you cast a spell?" Dawn repeated, irritation clear in her voice as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other, blocking the sexy view from Willow's eye line.

"I… oh, uh… well, yeah. Of course I did," Willow shrugged, pulling a black crystal from her pocket. "I mean, duh! Why else would everyone be acting so weird? Willow casting spells that go wrong should pretty much always be on top of the usual suspect list."

"Maybe you should, y'know, undo it?" Dawn suggested haughtily, glancing back at the two blondes, who were groping and writhing, backing up towards whatever surface might be closest as they moaned obnoxiously into each other's mouths. She looked past them, spying Xander staring miserably at the couple, wrapping his arms around his middle, eyes shining and chin beginning to quiver. "Because honestly, I think I spoke too soon about that whole Dawson's Creek thing, and it's getting out of hand. If you don't fix it soon, we're gonna have some kind of voyeuristic porno with really sketchy plot right here in the Magic Box."

"You mean with a massive pillar of throbbing flesh ripping through Spike's pants, yearning to find its home in Buffy's tight, velvet sheath?" Tara asked, her eyes glazing slightly as she finally gave in and watched the pair in question. Maybe if she could get in on that, one night of sharing wouldn't be so bad…

Xander whimpered from his corner.

"Yeah… like that," Dawn sighed, adding another eye roll for good measure. "With a minor in the room."

"Oh, God! Get this stopped!" Anya agreed, turning and shielding her eyes as best as she could with her hands over her ears. "That would be so disturbing! Not to mention illegal in forty-eight states."

"I don't know…" Willow hedged, able to see the blondes once again now that Dawn had shifted her position. "Aren't you the least bit curious about Spike's massive, throbbing pillar of flesh? I know the audience is always keen to get a glimpse of it. I bet his ass is super-cute, too."

"Do vampires even have _throbbing_ pillars of flesh?" Giles wondered, studying the pair intently. "This may require more … looking into. With no heartbeat it seems—"

"Willow…" Dawn drawled, warningly. "He's not a sex-bot to be played with, ogled, and paired up all willy-nilly with every character in the universe just to fulfil everyone's sexual fantasies. Next thing you know, he and Riley will be going at it, hammer and tongs!"

Xander gasped, "That actually sounds kinda… hot," as Giles raised his brows and stated, "I haven't heard that saying in a coon's age!"

"This has gone far enough. Fix it, Wills," Dawn insisted.

"I dunno if I can… Magic has all these consequences, and you shouldn't just go barging in without any thought to what could happen, y'know? Besides, I really don't think Spike would mind hammer-and-tonging _anyone_ ," she sighed wistfully, wondering what his 'tong' might taste like…

"This is ridiculous, hand it over," Tara snapped, holding out her palm.

"What?" Willow turned to the blonde witch, blushing. She hadn't heard her thoughts, had she?

"If you're too scared to fix this, then I will. Otherwise the minute Spike's done getting his rocks off with super-smooch over there, he'll be barging in, rocking all over you, trying to take you away from me. You heard what he said, Willow…"

"Oh… O-okay, sure." Willow sagged in relief. "I guess if you think it's the right thing to do…" She plopped the crystal into Tara's waiting hand.

"This is what you used?"

"Um, yeah…?"

"God, Willow. This is so easy to fix. You really need to stop being so worried all the time," Tara rolled her eyes and dropped the crystal to the floor, smashing it beneath her boot.

A soft flash of light washed over them, forcing everyone to blink and cover their eyes a moment as they reoriented themselves.

Buffy and Spike leapt apart, eyes locked in surprise, and in Buffy's case, horror.

Xander began spitting and choking. "Oh God, Spike lips! Lips of Spike!"

"My money!" Anya gasped, snatching the wad from Dawn's hand and clutching it lovingly to her chest, before tucking it safely away inside her bra.

"Dear, Lord. Where are my glasses…?" Giles muttered, looking around, handkerchief at the ready.

"Buffy," Spike panted. She stared into his eyes as he reached a tentative hand out toward her cheek. She averted her eyes from his, finding them drawn unconsciously to the prominent bulge in his pants, and flinched back, a girlish "Eep!" bursting from her throat.

The Slayer whirled away from him, racing out of the shop, through the training room and out of the back door. Spike growled in frustration and was on her heels a moment later, leaving everyone else standing in shock, scrutinising each other.

"Does anyone else feel like Buffy might…?" Xander began, swallowing, unable to finish the awful thought.

"Actually, um… love Spike?" Dawn filled in, her voice pitched in concern and hope.

He nodded numbly, and slowly, the others nodded, too.

"No good can come of this," Giles sighed tiredly, placing his spotless glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

"I-I'm sorry, I…" Willow gasped as tears slipped softly down her cheeks.

"Wh-what did you do?" Tara asked timidly, afraid to even look at Willow in the eyes, fearing what she might see in them. "Y-you promised me… You promised no more spells, and th-then –"

"Tara! Baby, please! I'm sorry, I –"

"I can't do this," Tara sobbed, turning and bolting towards the front door.

 **** X-X-X-X-X ****

"Slayer!" Spike yelled after her, racing to catch up, tweed rustling sexily as he ran, but not as sexy as it would've been if he'd had his duster. Let's face it, tweed just can't compete with leather. Who was in charge of the wardrobe department today, anyway? "Can't run forever!"

"I can try!" she called back, even as her pace slowed and she came to a stop. She wrapped her arms around her torso, not turning to face him as he came up behind her.

"Buffy…" he breathed, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "What you said…"

"It… It was the spell!" she asserted, her eyes clamped closed, trying to block everything out.

"Was it, then?"

She spun around, suddenly angry, hands balled into fists at her sides. "Of course it was! What do you think?!"

Spike shrugged, pulling his hand away and tucking his thumbs over the waistband of his tweed trousers as he met her frightened eyes. "Think if it was the spell you wouldn't be trembling like that… heart wouldn't be pounding outta your chest."

"I just ran two miles…"

Spike looked back over his shoulder and turned back to meet her eyes again, scoffing. "Ya ran two blocks."

"What are you, the fitness police now?"

Spike arched a brow at her.

She rolled her eyes to the dark sky, huffing out a breath.

"Ya know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage, jus' literally twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery, for something amazing t' happen… for your whole life t' change," he murmured.

Buffy shook her head, looking back at him, meeting his hopeful, imploring eyes in the soft glow of the street lights. "Favour fortunes the brave," she whispered, to herself more than him.

Spike raised his brows, waiting, trying to find some of that stoic patience he'd never been known for, trying desperately to remain out of character before he bollocksed up any chance of this being something real… God he wanted it to be real, to not be a bloody spell for once. He was sick of spells – and she'd kissed him, hadn't she? Just a few nights ago, all with the 'Sound of Music', sure, but the demon had been gone by then…

"It… It wasn't the spell," Buffy admitted finally, barely louder than a thought, but Spike heard it. "Saying it, out loud in front of everyone – even to myself – that was the spell…"

Spike's unbeating heart began doing riotous, cornball cartwheels in his chest.

"I love you, Buffy. So bloody much."

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes, but not looking away. "I… I know, I…"

Spike gave her a small smile, swallowing back his disappointment. "Don't have t' say it right now… maybe… maybe later, yeah?"

Buffy nodded again, swiping at her tear-stained cheeks. "Maybe later," she agreed.

Spike stepped forward and took her face gently between his palms, his eyes searching hers ardently. "Can I kiss you?"

Buffy bit her bottom lip, letting a smile quirk the corners of her mouth. "You know that's totally out of character, right? With the whole asking, instead of just doing?"

Spike chuckled, stepping in closer. "Not out of character, luv. You just never let me be that part of m'self until now…"

"You mean the clichéd romance isn't just a spell-induced thingy?"

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Nope. Hopeless, I am. Especially when it comes t' you."

Buffy couldn't stop the cheesy grin slipping across her features as Spike's thumbs stroked gently against her skin.

"So?" he asked. "No spells. No chains. Nothin' but me an' you… Can I kiss you now?"

"Now that, I can say without hesitation, I would love."

 **The End.**

* * *

 **End Notes:**

Spike's 'twenty second' advice paraphrased from the movie: 'We Bought a Zoo'

Wonderful banner by Holi117.

Thank you so much for reading! We hope you laughed – cos we totally did! Please stop in and let us know! We'd seriously love to hear from you. **This is Holi117's first 'published' story, so come on, GIVE IT UP FOR HER! Seriously! She deserves your accolades - so much of this is hers!**

This was inspired by a crazy FB chat between us, which we have fairly often, but this one just had to be shared. We really hope you laughed as much as we did over it.


End file.
